[The Drowned World: Outside Manjo's Restaurant]
The smoke from the battle with the Seven was still a smudge on the horizon, but on this small island, the air was filled with a different kind of heavy silence. Every chef from the restaurant stood in their white tunics, steam-pressed and formal, forming a wall of silent respect behind Jacob.
The old man looked smaller than usual, his weathered hands trembling as he gripped his apron. Manjo stood before them, her travel bag slung over her shoulder, her eyes shimmering.
Manjo: "Thank you... thank you everyone for everything. For teaching me, for feeding me... for being my family."
Jacob stepped forward. He tried to maintain his gruff, stern exterior, but the mask was cracking. "Manjo... set sai—"
He couldn't finish the sentence. The tough old chef, who had survived pirate raids and food shortages, suddenly doubled over, his face buried in his hands as he started crying. The other chefs looked away, wiping their own eyes with their sleeves. After a long minute of sobbing, Jacob finally forced the words out.
Jacob: "Set Sail well... Manjo! Don't you dare let those idiots starve!"
Manjo: "Of course I will... I'll be the greatest chef the Drowned World has ever seen!"
She started crying too, the tears fat and hot, but she wiped them away with a fierce swipe of her hand. She gave a watery laugh, trying to lighten the mood. "Look, old man! You also made me cry! I'm going to have puffy eyes for the first day of my journey!"
Jacob waved her away, unable to look at her anymore without breaking down again. "Just go! Before I change my mind and lock you in the pantry!"
[The Beast's Debt: Sailing Into the Mist]
The ship cut through the gentle waves, moving further and further away from the island that had been Manjo's entire world. She stood at the railing, her hair whipping in the wind, watching the silhouette of the restaurant shrink until it was just a speck.
Ato walked up behind her, his hands behind his head. "Manjo, please don't look sad. We can always go back for a snack."
Manjo turned to him, and to his surprise, she was smiling. "I'm not sad, Ato. I'm happy. Happy to join you guys. I think... I think I finally found the adventure Jacob always talked about."
She clapped her hands together, her professional spark returning. "Ok! Now we need to ask that handsome freak some questions. I will be making something to eat. What should I make? A celebration feast?"
Without waiting for an answer, she headed straight for the kitchen, her mind already racing through recipes.
[The Living Room: The Mystery of Poison]
The living room of the Beast's Debt—the central hub just below the main deck—was filled with tension. Faramis, Lemon, and the recovering Kojo sat around the wooden table, staring intensely at the newcomer.
Ato descended the stairs and took his seat at the head of the table just as Faramis started the interrogation.
Faramis: "Now the captain is here, we should start. What is your name?"
The handsome man, no longer wrapped in bandages or hidden by a cloak, sat perfectly straight. His long black hair was tied back, and his dark eyes were calm.
?????: "My name is Poison."
Faramis blinked. "Poison? That's a bit dark for a guy who looks like a model. Ok, so Poison... where did you come from? Who put you in that medical bay?"
Poison looked down at his hands, his expression clouding with confusion. "I... I don't know. I'm sorry, but I don't know anything. When I woke up in your ship's medical bay, I only remembered my name. Everything else is a fog of cold and darkness."
Faramis leaned back, crossing his arms. "A total amnesiac? How convenient. Ok then—"
"Here's food for everyone!"
Manjo's voice cut through the suspicion. She emerged from the galley, carrying a massive tray of steaming plates. She set a perfectly seared steak in front of Ato, a light pasta for Faramis, and a protein-rich stew for the wounded Kojo.
Manjo: "Eat first, talk later. Nobody interrogates anyone on an empty stomach."
They all started eating, the quality of the food instantly softening the mood. Even Poison ate with a refined, graceful speed, as if his body remembered high-society manners even if his brain didn't.
[The Bath: A Moment of Reflection]
While the boys finished their meal, Manjo slipped away to the ship's bathhouse. She needed to wash off the salt, the blood, and the tears of the day.
She stepped into the small, tiled room and turned the shower on. She took off her pants; her white panties were dry, but they quickly became wet as the steam and spray filled the room. She peeled off her suit jacket and the white shirt beneath it, leaving her in just a simple white bra.
She stood under the warm water, letting it soak into her skin. Her hand moved to her chest, gently touching herself where Ato had grabbed her earlier. Her face heated up again.
Manjo: "What was that feeling... when he touched my boobs? It was so reckless... so stupid... but..."
She shook her head, trying to wash the thought away with the soap. She finished her shower, feeling refreshed but still a little dazed by the events of the day.
[The Hallway: The Melons Return]
A few minutes later, the sound of loud laughing and cheering drifted toward the bathhouse. Manjo stepped out into the hallway, a large white towel wrapped securely around her body, her damp hair clinging to her neck.
She followed the noise back to the living room and saw a sight she didn't expect. Faramis, Lemon, and Kojo were all leaning in, laughing and sharing stories with Poison. The handsome newcomer was smiling, his mysterious aura replaced by a friendly, genuine warmth.
Manjo stood in the hallway, leaning against the doorframe. "Looks like you all are getting along."
The effect was instantaneous.
Lemon turned his head, saw Manjo in nothing but a towel, and his eyes turned into hearts. A split second later, a massive nosebleed erupted like a fountain. He fell backward, hitting the floor with a dull thud.
Faramis looked toward Manjo, his face turning a bright shade of pink. He quickly looked down at his feet, suddenly finding his boots very interesting. "U-um, hi Manjo."
Kojo, the stoic warrior, turned his head away so fast he almost gave himself whiplash. His ears were burning red.
Even Poison, the mysterious amnesiac, turned his face away, a polite but deep flush creeping up his neck.
Every man in the room was a different shade of red. Except for Ato.
Ato stood up, staring at her with wide, unblinking eyes. He didn't look shy; he looked like a man who had just seen a legendary treasure.
Ato: "Those were the type of melons i tried eating in my dream..."
He walked closer to Manjo, his gaze intense. He stopped just inches away from her, looking her up and down with total honesty.
Ato: "Oi, Manjo... you were this gorgeous? I didn't know."
Manjo felt a surge of heat rush to her cheeks. She wasn't expecting such a direct compliment from her knuckle-headed captain. Flattered and embarrassed, she reached out and shoved Ato playfully, but with enough strength to send him tumbling to the ground.
Manjo: "Oh, come on! You're gonna make me blush, you idiot!"
Ato sat on the floor, rubbing his head and laughing, while the rest of the crew slowly tried to recover their senses. The journey had officially begun, and with Poison on board and Manjo in the kitchen, the Beast's Debt felt more alive than ever.